


sputnik

by canniballistics



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniballistics/pseuds/canniballistics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's been back and is doing pretty well, but it looks like HYDRA left him with a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sputnik

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to [varooooom](http://archiveofourown.org/users/varooooom) for beta reading this. would you believe i actually had this started _before_ the news of cap 3's working title came out?

" _сидеть_!"

Sound comes through muffled, as though his ears are packed with cotton, and when the fog clears out of his brain, color and detail start to seep back into the world.

The first thing he sees is red.

Red on his knuckles, on the curve of a pair of lips. The edge of his knife, pressed against the soft flesh underneath a chin.

And then the blue of the eyes staring back up at him.

"Bucky, it's okay."

His mind starts up before the rest of his body at the sound of that voice, running diagnostics before allowing his muscles to unlock.

> Body temperature: normal; 97F.  
>  Heart rate: elevated; 140bpm.  
> 
> 
>     Source: adrenalin. accepted.
>   
> Physical wounds: none apparent.  
> Internal status: 95%; heart rate elevated. accepted.  
> Threat level: none.  
> Target: none.  
> Functionality: 90%; dropping.  
> Functionality: 78%; dropping.
> 
> Dropping.
> 
> Drop—

  
"Steve?"

It's an awful sound, more of a croak than anything. But bloodied lips curve into a smile, and he pulls the knife back, movements sluggish and stilted as he climbs off of Steve's chest. ( Tries not to think of the relief apparent in the other's expression. ) The rest of the room begins to trickle back into focus, and he looks up to see the other occupants on their feet, various weapons at the ready and pointed directly at him — only stayed by Steve's hand, held out in a silent order for them to stop. Steve sits up slowly, hands splayed open, offering peace. He doesn't look away once.

"You back with us, Buck?"

His heart falls at those words, shatters somewhere on the ground by his feet. _Shit_. Bucky ducks his head, quick ( as he can be, anyway ) to tuck himself into a corner of the couch as he nods. Ashamed, and he stares at the bruising starting on the knuckles of his right hand as the rest of the room moves around him. Disarming, from the sound of it; dully, he hears Steve tell Stark to go check the security footage and find out what happened, footsteps as the man rushes to comply. Doesn't see what the rest of them do, doesn't pay attention to what's said after that. All he knows is that after a couple of minutes, the room is empty but for himself and Steve.

The couch sags as Steve sits down next to him, and he can just picture him tonguing at the bloody split in his lip before saying, "I'm here if you need me. Okay?"

"Steve—" He hates how small his voice sounds, and when he looks up, Steve's full attention is on him, a comforting smile on his face. His expression fractures once their eyes meet, smile falling away and misery plain across his face; Bucky can't help but feel relieved that he can't see what his own expression looks like to do that to him. "What happened?"

To his credit, Steve only looks away for a second when he realizes that Bucky wasn't in control. "Nothing that was your fault, Buck. Okay?" There's no response. They both know how well he believes that, and Steve sighs. "We were watching TV, remember?" A nod. He and Steve were on the couch. Stark had a recliner. Wilson and Rhodes were on various other pieces of furniture. It'd been fun. "Well, something happened— we're not sure what, but it... It looks like something triggered your Winter Soldier programming. Tony's looking into it now."

Bucky's quiet at that, his blood running cold at the thought. Steve is quick to add, "I swear, we'll figure it out. It won't happen again, Bucky."

He wishes he could believe him. 

The room goes silent then as he thinks. He can almost remember what happened, can see it as though watching through a screen. Someone else's actions, carried out with his body, and the knowledge of it makes him sick. But he has to remember. Has to— figure out what it was, can't let it happen ever again. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, ignores the worried _Bucky—_ and the hand on his shoulder it elicits from Steve as he forces himself to replay what happened.

> Dog Cops was just going into a commercial break. They always gave him a headache, but no one else seemed to be having any problems with them, so he didn't say anything.  
>  Steve and Sam were laughing while Stark and Rhodes bickered about something. Something stupid probably, since it involved Stark. And that was right. Normal.  
>  Barton had walked into the room, complained about his seat being taken. That was right.  
>  Rhodes mentioned hating the commercials with the talking pig.  
>  The sound went away.  
>  The knife was in his hand.  
>  His fist crashed into Steve's jaw.  
>  He had a mission. 
> 
> And that was right.

  
" _-cky?_ "

He comes to with a snap, his breath catching. It only takes a second this time for the world to come back to him, spiraling outward from the grip Steve has on his shoulder. It grounds him, gives him something to focus on, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. 

No need for a diagnostics check. There's no need. There are no changes ( _elevated heart rate clammy palm irregular breathing_ ) worth noting. He's fine.

And then something occurs to him.

He glances up when Steve's hand tightens on his shoulder, trying to soothe at too-tense muscles. "Hey." His voice comes steadier this time, something he's thankful for. It makes him sick in his heart to know that his next question will ruin any chance Steve's still got at a good mood, but he has to ask it. "How'd you make me stop?"

Steve freezes, and he looks away then. Bucky manages to catch a flash of guilt in his expression, but then he turns away. "A safeword - сидеть. Natasha taught it to me before she and Maria went on vacation." The words come quietly, and even if he'd missed the guilt on Steve's face, it's written all through his posture. "It was in the—" Steve hesitates, and Bucky can fill in the rest. _In the HYDRA file._ "She translated it for me." He looks up, and there's a rueful smile on his face. "It was supposed to be a sort of 'In Case of Emergency, Break Glass' thing. I never wanted to have to use it."

Bucky's quiet after that, eyes falling to where his hands are clasped in his lap. He runs his flesh thumb along the grooves of the metal one, watches the way the two move together. It's easier than thinking about what's just been made clear to him: the knowledge that despite how long it's been, HYDRA still has a way of getting to him. And knowing that there's a phrase to— to _reboot_ him... It's unsettling, to say the least, and not for the first time, he wonders if all the progress he's made for himself can't just as easily be undone.

Scratch that — he has evidence to that truth, doesn't he?

A quiet whir as his left hand clenches around the right, and Bucky closes his eyes. _Damn it_. There's a shaky laugh, and he throws himself back into the couch cushions a little harder than he means to, bringing an arm up to rest over his eyes. "So that means I could kill you at any time, and I wouldn't even know it. Ain't that a peach?"

Steve laughs, but it's just as tremulous. "Yeah, well. I dunno if you noticed, but you didn't do so well the first time." He gives Bucky a crooked grin at the glare he shoots him, settles back on the couch next to him so he can bump their shoulders together. It's comforting, given the situation. Even so, Bucky can feel him gearing up to say something, so he's quiet, patient as he waits. 

It's far from what he's expecting. "Bucky." A pause, and he doesn't like that troubled look on Steve's face. "I need to ask you something. And I want you to be completely honest with me. No- saying what you think I want to hear." 

Bucky frowns, vaguely insulted that Steve would assume he'd do such a thing. But there's a truth behind it too, knowing that for the first few weeks since coming back, that's exactly what he'd done. So he nods quietly, motions for him to continue. 

Steve worries at the inside of his lip and really, it'd be cute if the mood wasn't so grave. He takes a deep breath, looks up at him, and it stops his heart in his chest. "Are you okay with this? With me using that phrase?" There's a dark glower on Steve's face, hands clenched into fists and pressed into his knees. He's angry, and it takes a second for Bucky to grasp that it's not directed at him. "I don't like it. At all. Being able to do that to you and knowing that they—"

"Steve." The surprise on his face is almost worth interrupting him, but more than anything, he doesn't want to hear what Steve had been about to say. "If you _really_ think I have a problem with you stopping me from killing you, we're gonna have to have some words."

"Buck—"

"No. Listen to me. You wanted honesty, you're gonna get it." He glances down at his lap to where he's unconsciously wringing his hands, pulls them up into his sleeves so Steve doesn't see. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like it at all, stomach doing flips at the thought of anyone — even Steve — being able to control him again. But if it's a choice between a trigger word to stop him or Steve dying at his hands, there's really no question, is there? "I don't like it either, okay? Kinda makes me sick to think about." Idly, he wonders about this. How glad he is that it's happening now, when he feels ( mostly ) comfortable speaking up. He doesn't let himself think about what it might've been like a few months ago, before he regained his words. 

"Sure, I don’t like it. But I'd rather be stopped than try to kill you again, and if that's the way it's gotta be, then so be it." He pauses, forces a crooked grin onto his face to try to lighten the mood. "But I swear, if you - or Nat - teach it to Stark and he starts— shutting me down so I don't keep beating him at Corrado Kart, then I'm coming after you guys." 

The joke doesn't come out nearly as nonchalant as Bucky tries for as he tries not to choke on the word, falling flat almost as soon as he says it; he guesses the way his right hand won't stop shaking doesn't really help his cause. There's a deep breath, and he scrubs his fingers back through his hair before looking over at Steve. He looks like he's not sure whether he wants to punch someone in the face or cry ( _like someone pissed in his soup_ is the thought that hits him ), his knuckles gone white where he's still got them pressed against his knees. 

"Listen." Bucky's voice is quiet, but it's enough to jolt him out of it. "It's…" He pauses, thinks better of it. "Well, it's not okay. But if it's gotta be anyone stopping me hurting people again, ain't it for the best if it's you?" He can see Steve gearing up to protest, and he leans to bump their shoulders together. "I'm givin' you permission. Okay? I've had it with hurting people I don't wanna hurt. 'Specially if it's you." 

Steve heaves a sigh, and Bucky swears it must be one of the most miserable sounds he's ever heard. "Even if you say that..." He leans into the touch, idly taking Bucky's hand into his own and squeezing gently. "I dunno if I'm too comfortable with this, Buck."

A sharp laugh, and Bucky buffets Steve's knee with their clasped hands. " _You're_ not comfortable? Gimme a break, Rogers. How the hell do you think _I_ feel about it?" It brings a smile to Steve's face, at least, accompanied by a breathy little laugh. Bucky offers him a smile, though his expression is more serious this time. "S'just you though, okay? If I ask Nat not to use it, she won't. I know I can trust her. You're the only one whose finger I want on—" _the killswitch_ he almost says, but catches himself, "—that button."

Steve nods his agreement, brings their hands up so he can kiss Bucky's knuckles. "You don't even have to ask, Buck. I won't teach it to anyone, and I'm not gonna use it again." He pauses when Bucky's hand tightens around his to remind him, adds, "Unless it's an emergency."

Bucky takes a deep breath, loosens his grip on Steve's hand. He's not sure if Steve will keep to his word — if he'll actually use the phrase or not. The thought pisses him off, but he knows Steve Rogers, knows that the two of them are of a like mind: they'd rather die than do anything to hurt the other. He knows Steve would rather take the hits than use a HYDRA catchphrase on him, and not just because it's HYDRA. 

It calls to mind something else, and Bucky hesitates, debating if he should speak up about it. They've always been too finely tuned to one another, he thinks, when Steve senses his hesitation and turns to look at him. 

"Bucky? What is it?"

He doesn't want to say it. But Steve asked, and it's important — Bucky takes a deep breath before meeting his eyes. "I'm gonna need you to promise me something, Steve." _You're not gonna like it._

"Anything, Buck." It's written all over his face how true it is; if he asked, Bucky knows Steve would bring him the moon. He's not so sure about this, though. "Just say the word."

"You gotta promise," and he pauses. Takes a deep breath, hand tightening around Steve's again. "Swear to me that if something happens—" He can already see the words organizing themselves in Steve's head. _Nothing's gonna happen, not on my watch, not if I can help it._ He knows the protest is already forming, so he hurries to finish, "If something happens, and there's no time for you to use some badly-pronounced Russian at me, you gotta stop me. For good." 

It takes a second for his meaning to process. _Put me down like a rabid dog._ Steve's argument dies on his lips, and maybe his heart does too; he freezes, looking for all the world like he's just been told he's terminal. Maybe he is, in a way. 

Bucky presses his lips together, forces a little smile on his face. "Said you'd promise me anything, Steve. That's what I'm askin'."

Steve's voice is hoarse, like he's suddenly been parched for years. " _Buck_ —"

"Mr. Stark is about to enter the room, sirs." 

Both men jump at JARVIS's voice cutting him off, and only a second later, the door whooshes open as Tony strides through it. "Cap, Astro Boy, you're gonna want to look at this." He doesn't wait for them to respond before asking JARVIS to pull up his screens, projecting them into the air for the three of them to see. None of it makes any sense until Tony starts talking. "I didn't find anything in the video itself; to the casual observer, it just looks like Barnes here went—" 

He pauses, and Bucky counts what few lucky stars he's got that Stark doesn't finish that thought, not with the way Steve immediately bristles next to him. _Like a hedgehog_ , he thinks, and it's hard not to start laughing. Tony clears his throat, sensing the impending violence, and turns back to the display.

"Anyway, since there was nothing on the cameras on us, I went ahead and checked what we were watching, and you wouldn't _believe_ how many layers of encryptions are in the commercials." Tony focuses his attention on one of the screens, throwing the others away to bring it up and zoom in and show them. Alphanumeric strings zip through, next to a couple of constantly-shifting charts and colorful lines. This too is largely nonsensical, which Tony doesn't seem to realize as he gestures. "I mean— look at this, it's, it's brilliant."

"Sir…"

"And insidious and awful too, yeah, thanks JARVIS, we all know that much," he amends with an eyeroll. Tony turns back to look at them, and Bucky has to force himself to keep still. He's been around long enough now to recognize that look in his eyes, the one Stark gets when he's found a new puzzle. "One of these days, Robocop, you're gonna— I want to— you _have_ to let me do an MRI on you and that arm. Scans, X-rays, _something_ at least—"

"The hell I do, and the more you bring it up the less likely your chances get." There's a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him of past sensibilities, that he should be polite about it. He shuts it down quick; if Stark can't take no for an answer, then he doesn't deserve it. Bucky takes a deep breath, tries to curb his annoyance. "You wanna tell us what we're looking at, Tin Man?" He doesn't mind that it's up to him to ask; Steve is silent, and Bucky still can't help being glad JARVIS had interrupted him earlier. "Because right now, it just looks like you're treating us to a shitty reproduction of the Matrix."

Stark's eyebrows rise, and he grins, an almost proud look on his face at the reference. "Okay, Neo. Check this out." He brings over the only cluster of stationary data, enlarging it and doing a few complicated wrist movements to parse it down for them. "Agent Smith and the gang left a few little surprises for you, tucked away in your brain. One of them is a programmed reaction to a combination of certain visual and audio cues. You'd never know it was there if you weren't looking, which, luckily for _you_ , I was. Hate to think what mighta happened if you guys were at home, where I'm _not_ recording everything."

He pauses, wincing a little. "Okay, that came out wrong. But basically, there are subliminal messages in some of the commercials, and I found code that speaks directly," and Stark points at Bucky with both hands, "to you, Boba Fett."

It takes a minute for the information to sink in. "Subliminal messages. _Great_. Next, you're gonna tell me that I'm an expert in ballet," Bucky drawls, slouching back into the couch.

Steve slings an arm around his shoulders, casting one of his Looks at Stark. "So what do we do about it?"

" _We_? _We_ don't do anything." Stark rolls his eyes, flapping a hand at them. " _I_ spend the next few hours trying to write up a code to counter it that I can layer over the playback so it doesn't affect you again. You're welcome, by the way." He turns back to the displays, clapping his hands to close all of the projections at once. " _You_ plebes are just going to have to wait. No TV until I figure this out. We might miss the beginning of the Brooklyn Nine Nine marathon, but I figure it'll be worth it. Go… I dunno. Work out, or flex, or whatever it is supersoldiers do in their off time."

Bucky glances over at Steve, whose face still bears echoes of the hurt from earlier despite the expression he's shooting Stark, and it visibly startles him as Bucky slings a leg across his. Their talk from earlier isn't done, probably won't be until that look either leaves Steve's face or they come to some kind of agreement. The sooner the better, probably, so he clears the room the best way he knows how when it comes to the engineer. Bucky grins at the mortified look that crosses Stark's face when he kisses Steve's cheek. "Pretty sure we can figure out _something_."

"Nope." Stark's hands go up as he immediately heads for the door. "You have fun with that. _So_ not interested in the mating rituals of geezers."

"You're older than we are, asshole!" Bucky calls after him, and once the door shuts, he straightens up again. Talking with Stark when he's onto something is always a drain, and it takes him a minute to collect himself. Bucky sighs, brushing his hair back out of his face before pausing and nudging Steve when he doesn't say anything. "You okay, pal?"

Steve gives him a withering look. "No, Buck, I'm not." And just like that, they leap back into it. "You're gonna ask me to take you down, and expect me to be fine with that?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't expect _anyone_ to be fine with it." Bucky withdraws a little, looking down to where his hands are clasped in his lap again. He hadn't expected Steve to just accept it, but he _had_ hoped he'd be able to see the rationality. Eliminate the one to save the many. "But it makes sense, and you know it."

"Not to me, it doesn't." The answer surprises him with how quickly it comes. Bucky jerks as he looks back up at him, and Steve's gaze is steady, already set with whatever decision he's made. "Trust me, if that ever happens — if I can't stop you _without killing you_ , neither of us are making it out of that fight."

Bucky stares at him in silence for a minute. Remembers, suddenly: fire, and the prospect of being alone without this punk at his side ( _No, not without you!_ ); explosions and blood, and a slowly clearing fog ( _I'm with you 'til the end of the line_.); and all the times before, after, and in between those instances. There's a harsh laugh, scrubbing his hand over his face and knowing that what Steve said is the undeniable truth. 

_Why can't we just say 'I love you' like normal people? Why does death always have to be involved?_ "Y'know, I think there might be something wrong with us?" Bucky asks suddenly, letting Steve pull him back into his side.

"Oh, y'think?"Steve's grip is unnecessarily strong, as if he expects Bucky might run away or vanish at any second. But the sarcasm might as well be literally dripping from his voice, and it brings a little grin to Bucky's face.

They don't say anything after that, each sinking into their own thoughts. He's acutely aware of it when the others start to join them again, jumping when Thor suddenly claps a hand on his shoulder and asking what he missed. Stark must have given them the all-clear after he'd left, and as the room fills up again, everyone conspicuously avoiding the TV, only one thought is left bumping around in Bucky's mind.

 _What if it happens again?_

It's a bridge they'll have to cross when they come to it, he guesses, and tries to let himself be pulled back into the others' chatter.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i don't know russian and don't claim to, despite how much i'd like to learn. from what i understand, сидеть is a dog training command for "sit". please let me know if i'm wrong and i'll change it!!


End file.
